


A Mage of the Grey

by ravendas



Series: The Lion, the Griffon, and the Rose [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Love Triangles, POV Multiple, Requited Love, Unrequited Crush, Wanting the One Person You Can Never Have
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-27 19:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13255350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravendas/pseuds/ravendas
Summary: Hyperia Amell had established herself as one of the more promising up-and-coming apprentices of the Kinloch Hold Circle Tower in Ferelden. But one night changed everything and she was forced to leave the only home she had ever really known, and the one person she began to love, in order to become a hero to all of Thedas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all started to fall apart...

_Ibus arnum qui fortunate versente…._

The words began to blur upon the page as Hyperia Amell’s golden-green eyes skimmed over them. She had lost all track of time studying and suddenly realized how late it really was. The library had been long abandoned by apprentices and mages alike, leaving her in blessed silence to finish the last of her studies.

 _I need to get back to my quarters before someone comes along._ It wasn’t unheard of for apprentices to study in the late-night hours, but the Templars could possibly take it as being somewhat suspicious. _For all they know, I could be sneaking books on blood magic. Even though they’re all locked up and, even if I was, I certainly wouldn’t be sitting out here in the open doing it._

Rubbing the weariness from her eyes, she tucked the book under her arm and began making her way back to the apprentices’ quarters. A sudden motion caught her eye just in time to see a familiar dark-haired figure in apprentice robes darting furtively into the chapel. _Was that….Jowan?_

This was puzzling. He had never been a religious sort and why was he being so secretive? They had been best friends since…well, since she was first brought into the Circle. He had always been a rather…nervous sort, always fretting about the Harrowing, or his studies, or (more recently) whether or not a girl would find him attractive. Hyperia had hoped that their friendship might turn into something more. He had indeed grown quite handsome into manhood and she had always found his anxious awkwardness endearing. However, that same awkwardness kept her from really being able to figure out if he felt the same about her.

 _Perhaps he goes to confess his lustful thoughts towards me_ , she mused to herself, a sly smile tugging at her lips at the thought, as she slipped quietly towards the chapel’s entrance. A woman’s laughter softly echoed through the spacious chamber. Hyperia carefully peered within just in time to see Jowan tugging a red-haired priestess behind a screen, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

Hyperia felt as though she had been punched in the gut. She felt her knees buckle as she sagged against the cool marble of the hallway wall. _I thought he….Maker, I am such an idiot._ She could feel sobs starting to wrack her body and knew she couldn’t stay where she was. Someone would hear her…. _he_ would hear her. And though part of her wanted him to…wanted him to hear her and come running and apologize for hurting her…she knew that if he did, she would only be humiliated further.

She couldn’t go back to her quarters…not now, not like this. _The kitchen….no one will be there this time of night. And if anyone catches me, I can say I’m just grabbing a late bite to eat._ She might get in trouble for raiding the larder at this hour, but she honestly couldn’t think of anything else, so she took off at a quick stride towards the kitchen.

As soon as the door closed behind her, she sank onto the cool tile floor and finally allowed herself to cry. She didn’t know how long she sat there, face buried in her hands as sobs racked her body. _Why her? Why in the world would he even look twice at a priestess of all people?! Some slave to the Chantry who tells us over and over again how evil we are, how we need to be locked away. Why?! She even has red hair…like me. Is he with her because she reminds him of me? No…I have nothing in common with someone like her._

Her despair slowly turned to anger as she pushed herself to her feet. Spying half a wheel of cheese and an opened bottle of wine upon the massive prep table dominating the space, she realized that she was actually hungry…and that, for the first time in her life, she felt the need to get drunk. Glancing about the kitchen guiltily, she hastily uncorked the wine and sniffed at it before taking a cautious sip. _Oh…wow…this is good._ Without further hesitation, she tipped the bottle back and took a long drink, reveling in the warm numbness that began to spread through her body and mind.

Her thoughts began to take a new route, emboldened by the alcohol. _So he wants to be with someone else? Fine. I’ll go find someone myself…make him see what he’s missing out on. He could’ve had me. No Chantry wench could give him what I can…understand him the way I do._

As she drained the last dregs of the wine and began to gather up her book, the door suddenly swung open behind her, a startled cry escaping her.

“Oh shit, I didn’t think anyone would be in here this late!” A blonde-haired mage, dressed in Circle robes, but clutching a shapeless bundle of brown cloth, stopped dead in his tracks just inside the doorway gaping at her. Something about him was vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn’t place her finger on it…especially through the haze of weariness and alcohol.

“I…uh….was just grabbing a snack…back from the library”, she mumbled, trying to keep the slur from her voice. She was about to slip past him and return to her quarters, but he suddenly swore again, his gaze darting back towards the hallway.

“Damn…someone’s coming!” Without another word, he tossed the bundle onto the table and grabbed her by the arm, pinning her back against the table as his other hand grasped the nape of her neck to pull her into an ardent kiss.

Hyperia’s eyes went wide as his mouth covered hers, startled at first, but a small voice in the back of her mind whispered, _Isn’t this what you were just wanting?_ She had honestly never really been kissed…not like this…and she was somewhat frightened of how much she was enjoying it. Through the languid fog, she heard footsteps outside the doorway, then a faint chuckle, before the footsteps receded. Indeed, while dallying with any of the Chantry’s people was strictly forbidden, most cared little about what carnal affairs mages conducted between themselves.

It seemed an eternity…yet far too soon…when his lips withdrew from hers, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed once more. He quickly closed the kitchen door behind him with a relieved sigh. “That was a close one. Should be another…20 minutes before the next one comes by.” His lips tugged into a sly smile which only enhanced his rather rakish appearance: blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, a single gold hoop earring in one ear, pale brown eyes set against sharp features. “Thanks for the distraction.”

She felt like she was in some sort of strange haze where her brain didn’t want to work properly. She couldn’t even remember telling herself to say, “You sure you don’t need another one?” The words just fell from her lips without her even thinking about them.

The mage appeared thoughtful for a moment. She barely caught his murmured, “Well, we do have 20 minutes…should be enough time”, before he swiftly stepped in to grasp her waist, hoisting her onto the table, before swooping in to devour her lips once more.

Hyperia lost herself in the languid numbness as she returned the kiss, barely aware of his hands deftly grasping at her robes. She had no time to register what was happening before she felt a sudden pain between her legs. His lips suddenly released hers as he stared at her wide-eyed, “By the Maker….you’re a…?!”

The pain had turned into a rather delicious sensation and the wine forced a somewhat-befuddled laugh from her as she snaked her arms around his neck, “Not anymore…”

“Shit, shit, shit….” Even as he cursed himself, he still clutched her tightly to him, unable to stop. Everything became a hazy dream of pleasure she had never thought even possible, until it completely overwhelmed her in pure ecstasy. His mouth dove in to muffle her cries of bliss even as his own moans echoed against her lips.

He sagged against her for but a moment, before quickly withdrawing to grab the bundle still resting on the table behind her. “Shit…I’m sorry. Damnit, it wasn’t supposed to…” Even as she tried to focus her gaze upon him, he gestured and everything went dark.

\------------------------------

Cullen hated the night shift. Patrolling the empty hallways of the Circle tower always turned into a seemingly-endless litany of boredom. He had yet to find a blood mage secretly practicing his or her evil rites in the darkest hours of the night. He had yet to come across anything, really…aside from the occasional couple fornicating in some shadowy corner. _I’d rather stumble across a blood mage_ , he thought sullenly. It would be a welcome relief from the constant reminders of how at least the mages were able to find some sort of physical release…while, as a Templar, there would never be anything of the sort for him to look forward. Templars were strictly forbidden from having any sort of personal interactions with the mages…and female Templars were few and far between. He knew some of his fellows would visit the tavern on the shores of the lake and enjoy a night with one of the girls there, but that wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted. He was even aware that more than a few Templars used their position to….take liberties…with the mages, usually the apprentices. The mages were frightened into keeping their secrets and most of the other Templars just looked the other way. He couldn’t even imagine abusing his position like that…the very thought of it disgusted him.

Suddenly the sound of armor-shod feet echoed down the hall and a trio of Templars, led by Knight-Commander Greagoir himself, came into view. “Cullen! We have an escapee! Come with us”, Greagoir demanded, not slowing as they ran past the startled young man. _Well, you wanted some excitement, didn’t you?_ , he thought to himself as he took off at a jog after them.

A few minutes later, they burst into the kitchen, greeted a split-second later by a woman’s startled scream. As the senior Templars fanned out into the room, Cullen’s gaze landed on the source of the scream: a female apprentice with tousled short red hair and golden-green eyes that were opened wide with fear as she clutched her robes around her. From their state of disarray, it wasn’t difficult to surmise what had transpired before their arrival. She looked utterly terrified, and not merely embarrassed at being caught in such a humiliating turn of events.

“Trenton, Markham, get the lift back up here…quickly! And be ready! Cullen! Keep an eye on her”, the Knight-Commander gestured to the frightened girl, “She could be an accomplice.”

Cullen didn’t think that the girl could look any more terrified than she already did, but her face went white as a sheet at Gregoir’s words, her eyes darting between the two Templars before fixing upon Cullen’s with desperation, “I swear, I’m not! I don’t even know what happened!”

Before Cullen could attempt to offer her some sort of words of reassurance, a voice echoed from the next room, “He’s gone, Ser!”

“Damn him! Go alert Farthel and tell him to get his men out there, looking for him. And grab some of those useless idiots slumming at the tavern while they’re at it!” The Knight-Commander’s words echoed at the Templar’s back as he ran out the door.

“And now you….” The girl cringed back as Greagoir stalked to her, eyes narrowed. “Convince me that you didn’t help Anders escape…again.”

\---------------------

It felt as though her world had completely fallen apart in the past…hour?...she didn’t know how long it had been since the mage had knocked her out with a mild mind blast spell. All Hyperia knew was that suddenly the room had been flooded with Templars and Gregoir was now accusing her of helping Anders escape. _That’s why he looked familiar. He’s tried to escape the tower more times than anyone in its history, I think. I should’ve known….if I’d known, I’d…_ Her thoughts trailed off as she pondered this. Would she had done anything differently if she had known who he was? Maybe…she would have realized that he was trying to escape again and….what? Called for the Templars? Run out of there, hoping to plead ignorance before she was caught up in his plan?

Sobriety had hit her in the face like a bag of rocks as soon as the reality of her position had set in. She had been found nearly half-naked in the kitchen where a mage had just made his escape. She knew exactly what it looked like: that she had helped him…perhaps was even his lover and an accomplice. _Oh Maker…what have I done?! All of this just because I found out Jowan has a girlfriend. I am such an idiot._

She felt a hand on her shoulder even as her body began shaking with racking sobs. “I swear…I didn’t know. I…just came to get something to eat….and he ran in….and we….” A fresh wave of tears began to flow as she broke through the drunken fog of memory of what exactly they had done. “…oh Maker. I didn’t mean to. I drank too much wine. I….couldn’t help it. And….he knocked me out….afterward. I didn’t know….why…what he was doing...I swear!” Any other words were lost in sobs as she buried her face in her hands.

Silence reigned for several long moments before she heard Greagoir’s deeper voice addressing the younger Templar who had watched over her, “Cullen, take her to the infirmary. Have them set her up with an abortifacient, just to be on the safe side.” Hyperia flinched, not only at the anticipation of the pain and humiliation that awaited, but at the implication of what she had done. _Oh Maker…they’re afraid I could have gotten…pregnant._

She wasn’t sure if she felt as though she was going to be sick…or pass out…or both as the Templar the Knight-Commander had called “Cullen” gently helped guide her down from the table. He could apparently sense her weakened state and spoke in a gentle, yet firm tone as he let her regain her footing. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine. Just one foot in front of the other, okay?”

She managed to blink away some of the haze that threatened to overwhelm her, focusing on pale brown eyes that looked to her with encouragement, then surprisingly, shyly flicked away as soon as she met them. A small voice broke through the morass in her head to whisper, _He’s handsome…_ But it was quickly quashed now that she was more than sober. _That’s the sort of thinking that got you into this mess in the first place. And he’s a Templar. You were just berating Jowan for falling for a Chantry pawn._

Her own sullen thoughts of guilt kept her conscious and walking, even though she barely remembered the journey to the infirmary beyond the feel of cold steel against her as Cullen helped bear some of her weight, allowing her to lean against him. She barely heard him address the healer in stuttering tones of obvious discomfort as he relayed Gregoir’s instructions. The last thing she remembered before collapsing into a weary faint was the feel of crisp cotton sheets beneath her and the sympathetic glance he gave over his shoulder before he slipped out the door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of quick notes...  
> A) The first line is NOT supposed to be Latin (so that no one thinks my Latin is terrible...though it is)...it's just semi-Latin-sounding words I slapped together.
> 
> B) Obviously...this is "to be continued". More Cullen POV and consequences and drama and such stemming from everything that happened here. Should be fun...
> 
> C) Kudos and comments are always welcomed. Constructive criticism is fine as well....especially since I don't have beta-readers, editors, etc. Something may look/sound fine to me but rubbish to the rest of my readers. Let me know! Thanks!


	2. A Mage of the Grey Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes and old wounds heal...until one fateful day...
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

Cullen strode the darkened hallways of the Circle tower, silently berating himself. _How did I not recognize her? All this time…_ But he knew the answer to that question even before his mind had even formed it. The beautiful, confident, enthusiastic woman he had been unable to keep his eyes from since the first day he had arrived was almost an entirely different person from the shattered, broken girl he had encountered, huddled tearfully in the kitchen. Until the moment she met his gaze as he helped her down from the table, he had honestly thought her to be someone else. It was certainly not a position the Circle’s most accomplished apprentice should have ever found herself in. The humiliation in her bloodshot eyes had said as much without a single word and he could only imagine how tongues would start wagging in the morning. Like in any other group of people, there were those who would revel to see the rising star brought low with such a scandal.

He could have returned to his quarters…Greagoir had not specifically told him to resume his patrol…but after what had happened, he knew that sleep would not come for him any time soon. So, his feet took him through the winding halls of the tower almost without conscious thought, only hastening slightly as he passed by the infirmary. He could not bear to hear the muffled screams filtering through the thick wooden door. He knew what was happening…even if she didn’t. It was what happened to the vast majority of female mages housed there. They were not only ensuring that she wasn’t pregnant…but that she never would be able to become so. The Chantry felt it a more efficient and less-expensive alternative to doling out contraceptives. In his mind, he understood and accepted the necessity. But, being faced with someone he…admired…being subjected to it, was an entirely different matter.

He made his way back to his quarters as the bells chimed the first morning watch. With everything on his mind, he did not think he would be able to sleep, but fell into a deep slumber almost as soon as he fell into his bed, oblivious to the sounds of the tower awakening around him.

\-----------------------------

The next two days were a constant litany of agony for Hyperia. It simultaneously felt as though an iron fist was squeezing her midsection while molten lava was being forced through her innards. Pain became a constant companion that she thought she would never be rid of. She couldn’t even force a single coherent thought to form through the ordeal. And that was what frightened her the most: she thought she was going insane. Everything she had worked so hard to accomplish over the 10 years she had been there, would be gone….eradicated by the pain that would turn her into a gibbering vegetable.

But, when she thought there was no more she could bear, it was finally over. She felt utterly drained, as though she had been scooped out and left hollow. Her senses slowly returned and, over the next two days, the healer helped her regain back a measure of her strength. Once, she thought she glimpsed the blonde Templar who had helped her paused outside the open door, only for him to quickly disappear once she had noticed him there. He was not the only one who passed by with a curious glance within. She knew that the gossip would be flying and it was what she dreaded most when she was finally able to make the walk back to the apprentices’ quarters.

The stares, the whispers, the undisguised disdain….she had accepted them over the years as the price of being one of the best students in the tower. But, to have them chin-wagging over her being found drunk, unconscious, and obviously ravaged during another one of Anders’ escape attempts…it was the ultimate humiliation. To make matters worse, the next day, she was ordered to the Knight-Commander’s office.

Gathered within were Greagoir, First Enchanter Irving, the three other Templars from that evening (including the young blonde who she felt flicking surreptitious glances in her direction), and the rakish blonde mage…now looking a bit worse-for-wear in dirt-smeared robes and shackles encircling his wrists.

“Oh, look who it is! Now the party can really get started! Ow!” Hyperia felt her cheeks burning at Anders’ cheerful greeting….which was swiftly cut off as one of the Templars cuffed the back of his head.

“You should keep silent, Anders. You are in enough trouble as it is.” Irving’s voice rumbled with a quiet sternness. Turning to Hyperia, he continued in a more gentle tone, “Now, child. Can you please tell us what happened that night? Take what time you need.”

Taking a deep breath, she slowly began recount the events…minus the whole reason she had run to the kitchen in the first place. As upset as she was with him, Hyperia refused to throw Jowan under the wagon. There were enough people involved as it was, she didn’t need to add him to the list of casualties of that night. A long silence prevailed as she finished, broken once again by the First Enchanter’s gravelly voice.

“I know this is painful for you, but we must ask: did Anders rape you?”

She felt like someone had punched her in the gut. She didn’t know what would have been worse…if he had, or having to admit that she had been, at least, not unwilling in what happened. Feeling Anders’ intent gaze upon her….he knew as well as she did, that she could determine his future with a single word…she shook her head, “No…I…”, she felt the need to explain, but couldn’t form the right words, “No.”

His long exhalation of relief was audible in the silent room, and swiftly quashed by the Knight-Commander’s harsh voice, “That only gets you off the hook for one thing, Anders. I’m still waiting for a good reason not to have you made Tranquil or executed right now.”

“Now Greagoir”, Irving interjected with that voice that always seemed to call to mind someone’s forever-patient grandfather, “I think that’s a bit extreme for what was a rather clumsy escape attempt.” Anders appeared mildly offended at the insult, but had the wisdom enough to keep silent about it, at least. “And you know as well as I do how some mages can be more prone to boredom than others. I am beginning to think that this is just his way of alleviating some of that boredom. Perhaps…”

Greagoir cut him off with a sharp gesture, “Enough! Perhaps a taste of _true_ boredom is what he needs. Solitary confinement…” he trailed off, cutting his gaze to Hyperia. “You may go.”

She nodded and strode quickly from the room, jaw clenched with the effort to not scream or cry as she made her way back to the dormitory.

\------------------------------------------------

Days passed…then weeks….and months…with the memory of that night slowly fading. The gossip eventually subsided, though there were still the occasional whisperings at her back, or a derisive snicker, concealed behind a hand as eyes followed her movements. She once more immersed herself into her studies and tried to forget. Jowan did not make it easy, however. While he still had yet to come right out and tell Hyperia about the priestess, he did mention having “finally found someone”, and his usual nervous awkwardness transformed into a sort of enthusiastic confidence.

There was also the matter of the Templar, Cullen. She saw him around the tower often…not surprising considering that the primary duty of the Templar there was to keep an eye on the mages. He just seemed to be keeping more of an eye on her in particular than the other Templars. More than once he appeared to want to speak to her, but seemed to change his mind at the last minute. She thought about approaching him herself, but there never seemed to be the right time or place for it without it seeming inappropriate or suspicious. So, she merely contented herself with flashing him the occasional grateful smile whenever he caught her eye. The flush that rose to his cheeks in response was enough to confirm that he apparently watched out of more than mere duty.

She had also begun to find small scraps of paper tucked into whatever book she was currently reading, or tucked under the pillow of her cot, or folded into the pocket of her robes. All of them bore hastily-scrawled passages from The Chant of Light, each offering some word of encouragement or inspiration. At first she had been puzzled as to the source, until she glanced up after reading one to find Cullen watching her with an intentness that was not that of suspicion or curiosity, but of anticipation. Unable to hide a smile, she merely nodded to him silently and was met with his own shy smile before his gaze darted away.

As soon as things seemed to start getting back to normal, a book appeared upon her desk. Glancing up, she met the bright green eyes of Petra, one of her instructors, who had fixed her with an intent stare. “You need to have this read within the fortnight.” And, without another word, she turned and walked away.

Curious, Hyperia opened the book to see the title, “The Maker’s First Children” by Bader, Senior Enchanter of Ostwick. She felt her stomach flip with a mixture of fear and anticipation; this was one of the foremost tomes on demons. She had never read it completely through, but she had seen enough to know the implications as to why Petra would have assigned it to her: _My Harrowing is near._ Mages were not allowed to inform apprentices as to an exact day or time of their Harrowing, but that never stopped them from giving hints once it became known to them.

Hyperia had begun to wonder if it would ever come to pass. She had been more than ready months ago, before the...incident. She could not help but wonder if it had been delayed as punishment…or perhaps it was felt that she needed more time to recover from the ordeal. Either way, the day was finally approaching where she would finally become a full Mage of the Circle…or she would die. No one really knew what became of those who failed their Harrowings, but Hyperia could easily infer it from the fact that those apprentices were never seen again. So, with that in mind, Hyperia spent the next few days pouring over the text as though her life would depend on it…because it would.

\---------------------------

The quiet scraping of steel echoed through the vast chamber at the pinnacle of the Circle tower as the assembled Templars waited for the ritual to begin. Cullen fought back the urge to cough as he adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword for what seemed like the hundredth time since they had arrived. It was not the first Harrowing he had attended, but it was the first in which he had been chosen as Andraste’s Mercy: the Templar assigned to deliver the killing blow if the apprentice failed to resist possession. Under any other circumstances, he would have been merely nervous. But he had not failed to notice the increased intensity with which Hyperia had been studying over the past few days…and he knew what it implied. _Her Harrowing is nigh._ So the possibility that she could be the one he might be forced to drive his blade into had turned him into a wreck of pure anxiety.

Even as he tried to still his thoughts, the heavy door to the chamber opened, accompanied by the sound of armor-shod footsteps of the Templar accompanying the chosen apprentice. Cullen didn’t want to look, but as soon as he flicked his gaze to the door, he caught sight of her red hair as she made her way up the stairs into the chamber. _No, please…oh Maker, why did it have to be her?_ Once again, he was forced to readjust the grip on his sword as sweat slickened his palms and his hands began to tremble.

The Templar accompanying her led her to the center of the chamber before taking his place among his fellows. Her eyes swept over the place curiously, only pausing for a brief second upon Cullen, her lips obviously fighting back a faintly nervous smile. He prayed that she could see the worry and regret he bore in that quick glance. He could offer no more than that…even though he wished he could apologize, beg her forgiveness for what he might be forced to do.

That quick exchange was immediately stifled as Greagoir began reciting the prerequisite passage from The Chant of Light, “Magic exists to serve man, not to rule over him. Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin.”

Daring another quick glance to Hyperia, Cullen was almost surprised to see a look of weary boredom upon her moonlit features. He tried to take that as a good sign. _She doesn’t seem terribly nervous about this. She’s one of the best students in the Circle. She should have no problem making it through this._ He silently recited those affirmations in his head, letting them reassure him that he would not be forced to plunge his blade through her body.

First Enchanter Irving’s gravelly voice then spoke up, explaining what the Harrowing would encompass…the secret kept from all apprentices, “The ritual will send you into the Fade and, armed only with your will, you will face a demon.” Cullen saw her slowly nod, her confidence unwavering until Greagoir interjected, “Know this, apprentice, if you fail, we Templars will do our duty: You _will_ die.” Cullen felt his stomach churn at those words, _And I will be the one who must kill you. Please don’t fail._

Irving merely nodded before stepping in close to rumble quietly to Hyperia. From where he stood, Cullen could not hear everything that was said, but what he did catch sounded like words of encouragement. However, Greagoir strode forward to interject sternly, “The apprentice must face this test alone, First Enchanter.” Surprisingly, his tone softened for but a moment as he addressed Hyperia, “You _are_ ready.”

With that, she took a breath that echoed through the chamber, and strode to the raised basin containing the blue-white glow of lyrium. She plunged one hand within, coating her skin with liquid radiance and casting her features in stark relief as she lifted her hand to study it with fascination. The glow faded as the lyrium absorbed itself into her skin and she staggered, barely catching herself as she fell to one knee, and then collapsed upon the marble floor.

A pair of Templars broke off from the rest, with each taking one arm to haul her slightly upright before settling the unconscious mage upon her knees before Cullen. It was not his duty to watch her for the signs of possession…that was for the others arrayed to either side of him…but he could not tear his gaze away from her. He couldn’t help but focus on the curve of her spine and the precise spot through which he would be expected to thrust his blade if she failed.

The minutes seemed to drag into hours, though he knew by the light of the moon shining through the high arched windows above, that barely any time had passed. Every hitch of her breath, every soft scrape of steel, every bead of sweat that trickled down his face seemed magnified. When she finally released a sharp gasp, it seemed to reverberate through the chamber like a sudden gust of wind. She seemed to regain consciousness for but a split second before crumpling back onto the floor. Tension was thick as Cullen felt the familiar pulse of lyrium-fueled energy exuding from the other Templars. It seemed an eternity before one, then another, then all echoed the same single word, “Clean.”

It took everything in Cullen’s power not to collapse to the ground in sheer relief. With trembling hands, he sheathed his sword as the other Templars stepped back from her kneeling form. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Greagoir and Irving exchange a look before the First Enchanter stepped forward to lightly place his hand upon Cullen’s shoulder.

“If you would be so kind as to see her back to her quarters, young man.” Cullen darted a look to Greagoir who only nodded mutely in acquiescence.

Kneeling, he gathered her up into his arms. Most Templars just slung their unconscious charges over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but he found he just couldn’t do that to her…no matter the curious, yet knowing looks exchanged between the others standing silently nearby. Without a word, he made his way back through the Tower’s levels until he reached the apprentices’ quarters. The hour was still too early for any to be awake so, as quietly as he could manage, he carefully tucked her into the narrow bunk assigned to her and settled wearily into a nearby chair.

There was no reason for him to stay. In fact, it would probably seem quite out-of-place for him to be there, silently watching over her sleeping form. He told himself he would only remain for a few minutes. He might never have a chance like this again to be this close to her and he wanted to savor it while he could. His eyes roamed over her slumbering features, memorizing every curve of her face and every strand of dark auburn hair that framed it. He found himself wondering what those soft lips would feel like pressed to his and sharply tore his gaze away from her. _I cannot think such things. She is a mage._ Allowing himself one last glance at her slumbering form, he turned and strode back to the Templar’s quarters, plagued by the knowledge that sleep would not come easily this night…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Harrowing sequence is heavily influenced by Andrastini's video, "Cullen's Crush". She was very gracious in creating a custom version just for Hyperia which can be viewed here: [Hyperia and Cullen](https://youtu.be/P3LT9Zo53GE)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her Harrowing successfully completed, Hyperia finds that everything is starting to change...especially her interactions with Cullen...

Sunlight slanted down through the high stained glass windows in the apprentice’s quarters as Hyperia slowly awoke to the sound of two voices whispering near her bed.

 “Is she still sleeping? I heard she had her Harrowing last night.”

“Yes, I overheard that Templar Cullen saying that it was the quickest, cleanest Harrowing he’d ever seen.”

A bemused snort followed and Hyperia recognized the sound as belonging to one of the more prolific gossips of the Tower, Mehdinarhi. She caught sight of the girl just in time to see her roll her eyes and reply sardonically, “Well, he would, wouldn’t he?”

Any further conversation was cut off as the pair caught her watching them and skittered off, giggling to themselves. _Ugh, don’t they have anything better to do?_ , she grumbled inwardly. Though she couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in her chest at their mention of the young handsome Templar.

 _He was there. I wonder…_ The thought was abruptly interrupted by a familiar voice behind her.

“Are you awake? Are you alright? Hyperia?”

She rolled over with a groan to catch sight of Jowan standing over her bed, a particularly pensive expression upon his face. “I’m fine, Jowan”, she mumbled wearily, “Just tired.”

“Oh good. I’m glad.” As she leveraged herself out of bed and raked one hand through her shoulder-length auburn hair, Jowan seemed to shift nervously before blurting out, “I was worried. I’ve heard that some apprentices never return from the Harrowing. Was it really that bad? What happened?”

Rummaging through her chest for a fresh set of robes, she tossed him an annoyed look over her shoulder, “You know I can’t tell you anything. We’re not allowed to talk about it.”

The dark-haired apprentice crossed his arms with an indignant huff and fell into a sulk that was all-too-familiar to Hyperia, “Fine. So much for friendship, I guess. Now you get to move upstairs to the nicer mage quarters, while I’m still stuck here and have no idea when they’re going to call me for my Harrowing.”

“They’ll call you when you’re ready”, she replied impatiently as she made her way across the spacious dormitory towards the wash basins. It seemed that Jowan was always fretting over something and right now, she was not in the mood for it.

“But I’ve _been_ ready! I’ve been here longer than you have!”

His whining was beginning to get on her nerves and it took every ounce of willpower not to tell him that he wasn’t even close to ready. He could barely cast the most basic of spells and there was no way he would be able to resist even the weakest demon. “Jowan, I just woke up, it’s been a long night, and I need to get dressed. Is there something you need?”

“Oh…sorry. I came to tell you that the First Enchanter wants to see you. I guess about your Harrowing. All the official stuff.” She could almost taste the bitterness that wound through his words.

“Okay…thanks.” She attempted to soften her tone a bit. They had been best friends since she first came to the tower, after all and part of her actually felt sorry for him. “We can talk later if you want.”

“Yes…yes, we need to talk”, he replied somewhat distractedly before wandering from the dormitory, leaving Hyperia to wonder just what his problem was this morning.

\--------------------------

“Hey, wake up”, Cullen stirred at the not-so-gentle nudge accompanying the command. Before he could respond, the voice continued, “You’re up next for escort duty.”

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he pushed upright, focusing on the senior Templar looming above his cot. “Escorting…who?”

“Some Grey Warden fellow who’s visiting Irving and Greagoir”, the man shrugged, “It’s a baby-sitting job. You just stand around and take him wherever he needs to go or fetch his dinner or whatever. Think you can handle it?”

“Yes, of—of course.” He managed as he gathered up his armor.

“You’ll be relieving Toran. He’ll be down on the second floor, by the guest quarters. Get moving.” As Cullen turned towards the lavatory, the Templar spoke up again, but with less harshness in his tone, “Good job on the Harrowing last night. It’s never easy getting picked to be the Mercy…especially when it’s one of the pretty ones.”

Cullen was quite thankful his back was turned that he could not see the flush that crept to his cheeks. Whether it was embarrassment or a slight stir of anger at the faint lecherous tone that snuck into his superior’s words, he wasn’t sure.

Several minutes later, he made his way down to the Senior Mages’ level of the tower. As expected, Ser Toran was lounging idly against the wall just down the hall from the First Enchanter’s office, looking rightly bored out of his skull.

“There you are”, the older Templar said as he pushed from the wall and hitched a thumb towards the First Enchanter’s office. “The Grey Warden, Duncan, is with Greagoir and Irving in some kind of meeting. One of the apprentices just went in there a minute ago, so I’d figure they’ll be breaking it up any time now.” Toran gave Cullen a clap on the shoulder before heading back down the hallway with a call of, “Have fun!” over his shoulder.

He had barely stood there for a minute before he heard the door open and voices wafted from the room. Glancing down the hall, he caught sight of the Grey Warden emerging from the room, obviously conversing with someone. But a second later, _she_ followed him out, her deep red hair framing a look of rapt attention as she listened to whatever the Warden was telling her.

“Do you think I could…?”, her voice trailed off as they drew near and it took every ounce of willpower Cullen had to not catch her gaze.

The Grey Warden seemed to not notice her distraction and merely answered her query with, “I don’t know. Do _you_ think you could?”

“I….don’t know”, the faint eagerness that had been hinted at in her question faded in favor of unease and perhaps even…guilt? “I doubt they’d let me leave the Tower.”

Cullen frowned as they proceeded down the hallway, curiosity over the subject of their conversation threatening to overwhelm him. _Is she…?_ He felt a sudden tightness in his chest as his mind started racing. _She wants to leave. But what mage doesn’t? If she left…she’d be free, but…I’d never see her again. Someone like her…she deserves to be free, not locked up here._

His thoughts were caught up in such a whirl that he almost didn’t even notice that she had returned and was standing just a few steps away…just watching him with a mix of trepidation and warmth. Caught unawares, it was all he could do to stammer out a greeting, “Oh, um…hello.” He suddenly realized that this was the first time he had actually spoken to her since that night he had escorted her to the infirmary. All of the exchanged glances since then had almost made words unnecessary, so he found himself stumbling over what to say to her, “I—um, I’m glad to see your Harrowing went well.”

Her lips curved into a smile that he did not think he would ever get tired of seeing, “It did. But you would know…you were there.”

A flush rose up his neck as he recalled the events of the night before: how worried he had been at the prospect of having to strike her down, the relief when she emerged successful, and the sight of her sleeping form nestled in his arms as he carried her back to the dormitory afterwards.

“They had picked me…as the one who had to…kill you if…if you became an abomination”, he found he couldn’t meet her gaze, the memory still fresh. “I—I’m just glad you’re alright. And that I didn’t have to.”

He looked up to see her glancing down the hallway nervously, then into the small room behind him. “I—I want to say something, but...not out here.” For the first time since the…incident…she seemed nervous, unsure of herself.

"Umm...maybe later...we can talk", he began, but she had already slipped past him into the room.

He hesitated for a moment, also unable to stop himself from checking the hallway guiltily. _If someone comes along and we’re…_ Shaking his head, he tossed the growing thought from his head. _She just wants to talk, that’s all._ Taking a deep breath, he turned and followed her within.

She looked nervous, her hands wringing restlessly. Her lips twitched into a shy smile as he approached. “I—I just wanted to thank you…”

Cullen blinked in confusion. But before he could reply, she continued on, one hand reaching into one of the many pockets lining her robes, “If it hadn’t been for you, I—I don’t know if I would have made it to my Harrowing.” She pulled a small book from her pocket and opened it to reveal dozens of scraps of paper slipped between its pages. His eyes widened as he realized they were all the verses he had snuck to her over the past few months.

“You….saved them?” He knew that she had read them, but never thought that she might give them another thought.

“They…you saved _me_. After…what happened, I felt so…alone, so hopeless…like everything I’d worked for before then was just…ruined. But you were there…you were always there, letting me know that I was still worth something after all.” There was a small hitch in her throat, as though she was holding back tears. “Because of you, I found myself again.”

He honestly could do nothing more than stand there, stunned at her words, as his gaze found hers. He could have gotten lost in those golden eyes forever and, he found himself taken completely off-guard when she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

It felt like an explosion had erupted within his chest, and his entire world had dissolved into the feel of her lips clinging to his, the caress of her fingertips as they slid over his cheek and through his hair. He silently cursed the thick plate armor separating them as his arms wound about her waist, pulling her tightly into his embrace. _Maker forgive me._ He wasn’t sure if he had thought the words or softly murmured them against her lips as he returned the kiss…deepened it with an ardor once reserved only for his devotion to the Maker.

He could have stayed like that forever, his arms holding her tightly against him, her own twined around his neck, their lips clinging eagerly, but a voice echoed tentatively from the hallway, “Hyperia? Are you in there?”

They both jumped, a faint curse slipping from her lips, as she quickly disengaged herself from him to peer around the bookshelves they had slipped behind, “Yes Jowan, I’m in here.” Her voice fairly dripped with annoyance…and Cullen couldn’t blame her. The dark-haired apprentice had been her best friend for years…or so he had heard….but he had also heard some rather disturbing things about the man as well.

Jowan tossed Cullen a curious, yet wary look as he approached. “What are you--?” Jowan began, but abruptly bit off the question as Cullen fixed him with an impatient glare. “Nevermind. We need to talk. It's kind of important.”

Raking a hand through her hair irritably, she released a sigh, “Very well. Give me a minute while I finish helping Ser Cullen here find this book that Duncan requested.”

“I’ll be in the chapel. Please don’t take too long.” Jowan’s eyes darted nervously between them before he turned and strode out of the room.

“Curse him and his awful timing”, Hyperia muttered, her eyes narrowed and glaring at the doorway.

Cullen fought to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the kiss and from their near-brush with being discovered. “At---at least it was just him and not…”

“…Anyone else?” She finished, nodding. “Even if he did see anything, I know he won’t say a word. I’ve been getting the feeling that he has his own secrets to hide as well.”

He thought about mentioning the rumors that had been going around among the Templars lately about Jowan, but opted against it. _Right now, they’re just rumors…and I don’t need to worry her with implying that her best friend might be a blood mage._

“I should go”, she said, her words hanging heavy with regret as she turned for the door, “Otherwise he’ll keep bothering me about…whatever’s bothering him.

He nodded, then on impulse slipped a corded necklace from his throat, pressing it into her hand. It was a simple coin, pierced through with a worn leather cord. “My brother gave this to me…for luck.” Recalling her earlier conversation with the Grey Warden, he swallowed before continuing, “Just in case…you are ever able to go outside the Circle…”

Her lips once again curved into the smile that he adored as she slipped the necklace around her neck and tucked it beneath her robe, “Thank you, Cullen. And even if I’m here for the rest of my life, I’ll at least always have a part of you near me.”

He ducked his head, a flush rising to his cheeks as he turned and hurried from the room, silently praying that he could manage to hide the happiness that threatened to burst right out of him from everyone else in the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene between Cullen and Hyperia was heavily inspired by the wonderful mod, "Cullen Romance Option - Mage Origin" by cmessaz7. Found here: https://rd.nexusmods.com/dragonage/mods/1949


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyperia Amell finds herself caught between the proverbial rock and hard place...and discovers how ruthless First Enchanter irving can really be.

_“They’re going to make me Tranquil! I’ll lose everything that I am! My hopes, my dreams, my love for Lily! You have to help us!”_

Hyperia sank further down into the tub, letting the warm water envelop her as she replayed her conversation with Jowan in her mind. One of the perks of now being a full mage of the circle was having a private room with private bath. It was nice to be able to just soak without all of the chatter of the other apprentices around.

_But he wants me to risk losing this, along with everything else I’ve worked most of my life to achieve. Just because that empty-headed initiate tells him he’s going to be made Tranquil._

Jowan had never been too bright, just a bit…shallow. He wanted everything to be quick and easy, and rarely put much thought into long-term consequences. This whole scheme of his to try to escape the Circle was the epitome of that.

_For all anyone knows, she could just be making it all up to try and convince him to run away with her. Or it could be a trap of some sorts, laid by the Chantry. Of course, why they’d bother with someone like him, I have no idea._

With a weary huff, she pushed from the tub and began getting dressed. The robes of her new rank were of slightly finer make than the plain apprentice robes she had worn for the past several years. _Just one more reason not to lose what I have worked for,_ she mused as she gathered up her staff and headed towards the First Enchanter’s office.

“Ah, you have returned, child. Did you see Duncan off to his quarters?” Irving greeted her as she tentatively entered the room.

“Yes, of course. We talked a little.” Hyperia trailed off, unsure if she should reveal that she had inquired about being able to leave the Tower.

Irving merely nodded sagely, “Good, good. He is an honorable man and we can learn much from him…about the Grey Wardens and more. Now, was there something you needed?”

Hyperia hesitated for a moment. She had no desire to get Jowan into trouble, but she had to know if what he said was the truth. Maybe if it was just a misunderstanding, she could say or do something…anything…to keep it from happening. “I was talking to Jowan. He’s been so upset about something lately. And he said that he heard that he was going to be made Tranquil. I just…is it true?”

Irving let out a low chuckle, “And who might have he heard that from, I wonder? Perhaps that young initiate that he dallies about with?” The gentle, grandfatherly tone dropped from his voice for but a moment, “You think I didn’t know? I did not become First Enchanter by keeping my eyes and ears shut.”

Hyperia felt the blood rush to her cheeks as the implication hit her. _Maker, does he know about Cullen and I as well?_ Quickly recovering in hopes that he did not notice her reaction, she asked, “Then…it’s true? Why would you do that?”

“Yes, child, I am afraid so. Greagoir has proof and eye-witness testimony that Jowan has been practicing blood magic.”

“What?!” She couldn’t hide her shock at this. When Jowan had mentioned the reason behind his impending Tranquility, she had honestly thought, as he did, that it was just based on a simple misunderstanding. She had not thought for an instant that it actually could have been true. “But…he can barely cast the simplest of spells! How could he…?”

Irving interrupted with a weary chuckle, “Do you not remember your lessons about the dangers of blood magic? It is the quick, simple path to power…that is why it is so seductive. He would not be the first mage to turn to it in order to bolster his rather lacking skills.”

“But, I’d…” She was about that say that she had been helping him with his studies, but in the past months since the incident, she honestly hadn’t been. She had been too preoccupied with recovering from it, then focusing on her own studies. To tell the truth, she hadn’t interacted with him much at all during that time. _If I hadn’t been so busy moping over him, feeling sorry for myself….I could have helped him, maybe prevented this. Maker, this is my fault. I should have been there for him to talk him down, to help him more._

“I’m sorry. But it must be done. Jowan will eventually come to terms with it, I’m sure.”

Her shoulders slumped as he laid a gentle hand upon them. The gesture was meant to be comforting, but it only served to increase the feeling of a weight bearing her down. She didn’t want him to get into any more trouble, but maybe if she told Irving about his plan…maybe he could talk him down, keep him from this foolishness.

“But…he won’t. He…he wants to try to destroy his phylactery and escape.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth, but she was honestly glad to be rid of them.

Irving’s hand dropped from her shoulder as he stepped back and eyed her speculatively, “Oh? I suppose his lady friend is the one whose idea that was. She would know more about the repository than he would. I knew she would probably tell him about the Rite, but I never imagined they’d have the gall to try to break into the repository. What else do you know?”

She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze, “That’s all. I told them I wanted nothing to do with it. I’ve worked too hard to throw it all away on some crazy scheme.”

“If we go to Greagoir with this, nothing will change beyond what is already planned. No, Lily must also be punished for her part in this. She will not walk free while one of my apprentices suffers.” Every trace of warmth fled from the First Enchanter’s voice, revealing an almost-vicious side to him that Hyperia….and perhaps most others…had never seen.

“Can we not just…tell them of her part in this?”

“No, they will say she was framed. She needs to be caught in the act.” When he turned his gaze upon her, all sense of a kindly grandfather fled in favor of a master manipulator who had survived many years as the head of one of the most hated and feared groups in Ferelden. “I assume they told this much to you already. Do they trust you?”

“I….yes, I suppose so.” It took every ounce of willpower she had not to start backing out of the room. She did not like the look in his eyes or where this seemed to be leading.

“Good. You will aid them in their plan and we will catch them both red-handed. With solid proof of their crime, we can act.”

At that, she actually did take a step back in shock, “What? You want me to…help them? Just so you can…?” Even as she shook her head to deny him this, his eyes narrowed upon her.

“Do not shy away from your duty now. You _will_ obey this order”, his voice dropped to a low rumble, “Or perhaps I could mention the young Templar _you_ are dallying with to Greagoir. I’m sure he’d be most interested.”

Hyperia felt the blood drain from her face, the realization that she was caught like a mouse in a trap by the one person she had always felt she could trust nearly floored her. It took every ounce of willpower to keep her hand from instinctively straying to the pendant worn concealed beneath her robes.

“I…if you know, then why…?”

“Why haven’t I said or done anything about it?” Once more, the First Enchanter’s features softened back into the familiar kindly façade she was used to. “Because you have proven yourself to this Circle and, unlike Greagoir, I am not against mages or Templars finding their comfort in one another, so long as it does not pose a conflict. Cullen proved himself last night at your Harrowing: he did not shy away from his duty, despite his feelings for you.”

Something in Irving’s tone gave her pause, “You make it sound as though…he was chosen on purpose.”

“He was.” He replied matter-of-factly, “The selection of Andraste’s Mercy is supposed to be random, but there are ways…” He trailed off, once more fixing her with an intent gaze, “Now, I believe you were going to go talk to Jowan?”

“Yes, First Enchanter”. Without another word, she spun on her heel, emotions writhing between anger and resignation. She had thought to have gained a measure of power and freedom with her newfound rank, but it seems that it was just one more link in the chain holding her here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up to be both shorter and longer than intended. The conversation with Irving was supposed to only be maybe a page or two, but ballooned into going much longer. My original intent with this chapter was to get all the way to her departure with Duncan, but obviously, that's going to be left to the next chapter.


	5. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyperia Amell must leave her home in the Circle...and everyone she cares about...behind. A new life with the Grey Wardens awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm back to writing on this one! I'm bouncing between here and Hyperia's DA:I story so that I don't have to expound too much detail with any flashbacks I write in that one. Plus, I have a few interesting foreshadowing ideas I want to play with eventually here.  
> This chapter is mostly gameplay with a bit of head-canon and altered conversations mixed in. I'm trying to get the hang of not feeling I have to write every single event in the game, but just tossing gameplay chapters in where I need to set things up and play with head-canon, alternating POVs, etc for the rest.  
> Enjoy! Comments, kudos, etc always welcome!

_This tiny vial is all that stands between me and freedom…_

_So fragile, so easy to just be rid of it….to end its hold over me…and I am free…_

_You…led us into a trap?! Don’t you dare speak to me!_

_I sentence this blood mage to death…_

_No! I won’t let you touch her!_

_I never thought him capable of such power…_

_I take this young mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions…_

_The Circle never forgets its apprentices, but the Grey Wardens are your family now…_

_Come, your new life awaits…_

Their voices echoed in Hyperia’s mind as she curled upon herself in the bedroll, the night silent save for the crackling of the fire and chirping of crickets. Duncan had called a stop to their trek to Ostagar shortly after the sun had set. Along their journey, she had inundated him with questions about the Grey Wardens and their destination. It was partly curiosity, but mostly the need to fill the space with conversation as to avoid dwelling on everything that had transpired earlier that day.

But now, left alone in silence, Duncan sleeping nearby, she felt the tears begin to flow. She had dreamed for so long to leave the tower and see the world, but now…she wanted nothing more than to go back, even if Greagoir saw fit to punish her for her role in Jowan’s escape.

She couldn’t help but resent Irving for forcing her to entrap her best friend. She had gone through so much and worked so hard to get where she was and, as soon as her life had started to fall into place, everything fell apart. _The way he spoke, it was as though he had already planned this all out with Duncan far in advance…maybe ever before my Harrowing._

Even now, she could hear their voices in Irving’s chambers as she had entered after her Harrowing…

_“This is she…?”_

_“Yes.”_

She felt a surge of resentment towards the First Enchanter…and Duncan. _They couldn’t even tell me what was going on. Duncan even hinted as though it might be a possibility…but they acted as though it was already decided! If I’d only known…._

Another sob caught in her throat at the remembrance of pale brown eyes, lips clinging, arms encircling her in a steel embrace. _If I’d known I was leaving before then…would I have kissed him? Would I have tried for more, knowing that was the last time I’d ever speak to him…touch him?_

It had not been the last she’d seen him, though. Fate was cruel and set him as one of the replacements for the guards at the door who had been incapacitated by Jowan upon his escape. So, she walked mere feet from him as Duncan led her from the tower. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to run into his arms and weep. All she could do was offer him a sad smile, her hand reaching up to touch the pendant concealed beneath her robes. She wasn’t sure if she imagined a dampness in his eyes as he merely nodded in reply and turned away.

Silently, she berated herself for not begging Duncan to conscript Cullen as well. He would have no doubt made a fine Grey Warden. Someone as kind and noble as him was wasted stuck in a tower, serving the Chantry’s whims. But everything had happened so fast and now it was too late. Her only reassurance was that, when she had asked Duncan if she would ever return to the tower, he expressed that her duties might allow her to visit eventually.

 _So I might see him again_ , she kept that tiny spark of hope close as she rubbed her thumb over the small coin pendant. _He said it was for luck…perhaps it will bring us back together one day._

With that thought held firmly in her mind, she eventually drifted off to sleep.

\-------------------------

As the pair finally made their way into Ostagar, Hyperia could not help but slow her pace to just stare at it all. She had lived confined in a tower for most of her life, so the ruins, the endless green of the forest overtaking them, the echo of voices mingled with the cries of the wildlife all fascinated her. She knew she had to be gawking like a fool, but Duncan did not seem to mind and merely slowed his pace as well so that she could keep up. She was so enraptured by it all that she did not notice the entourage approaching until she heard a voice call out.

“Ho there, Duncan!”

Snapped out of her enthrallment with her surroundings, her eyes widened as the newcomer approached. She had seen some of the other female apprentices (and a few of the boys as well) swooning over his likeness, but it didn’t compare to the reality: tall, clad in armor of shining gold that nearly matched his hair that cascaded over his shoulders, a smile upon his lips that was reflected in sparkling blue eyes. Even as his name sprung to her thoughts, it was echoed by Duncan…

“King Cailan! I wasn’t expecting…”

“A royal welcome?” The king laughed, a rich, hearty sound, “I was beginning to think you were going to miss all the fun!”

Hyperia thought she could see for a brief instant a sort of fatherly affection flick across Duncan’s features before he inclined his head respectfully to the monarch, “Not if I can help it, Your Majesty.”

The king beamed and Hyperia suddenly had the image of a puppy who had just been given a treat, “Then I shall have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious!” the king then turned his attention to her.

“The other Wardens said you found a promising new recruit. I take it this is she?”

Hyperia felt caught in his gaze, not sure what to do or say, so she merely opted to bow her head respectfully as Duncan replied, “Yes, allow me to introduce you, Your Majesty.”

“I think she can speak for herself, Duncan”, there was no admonishment behind the king’s words, but a touch of playful jocularity.

Finding her voice, she replied, “Hyperia Amell, Your Majesty. It is an honor.”

“We are honored to have you among the ranks of the Wardens. You hail from the Circle, yes? I’m sure you will have some useful spells to help in the upcoming battle.”

Silently, she thanked the Maker that she had proven proficient in the more destructive spells. Her instructors had been disappointed that she did not catch on as easily to more “practical” schools of magic, but perhaps this was the reason why she had been chosen.

“I shall do my best, Your Majesty.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Flashing her a smile, Cailan returned his attentions to Duncan, “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I must return to my tent. Loghain awaits to bore me with his strategies. Farewell Grey Wardens!”

Hyperia noted Duncan’s pensive gaze as the king retreated and quietly murmured, “He doesn’t seem to take this very seriously.”

Duncan nodded, a frown upon his craggy, bearded features, “Despite our victories so far, the darkspawn only grow in number. By now, they look to outnumber us.” He continued on their way towards the main camp, Hyperia following in his wake. “I know that there is an Archdemon behind this, but I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling.”

“Why not?”, she asked curiously, “He seems to respect you…and the Wardens…a great deal.”

Duncan sighed wearily, “Yet not enough to await reinforcements from Redcliffe and Orlais. He believes the legend of the Wardens alone makes us invulnerable. Our numbers in Ferelden are too few, so we must do what we can and look to Loghain’s forces to make up the difference.” He shook his head in obvious disappointment before continuing, “To that end, we need to proceed with the Joining ritual as soon as possible.”

Hyperia’s brows knitted in puzzlement, “Joining ritual?”

“Yes, it is something all new recruits must go through.” He paused as they reached the vast stone bridge leading into the heart of the ruins, “Feel free to explore, get something to eat, rest if you like, but all I ask is that you do not leave the camp for the time being. When you are ready, find the Warden named Alistair and he will gather the other recruits and bring you to the Grey Warden tents.”

“I’m ready now”, she replied, but Duncan shook his head.

“I know you’re anxious to begin, but it’s been a long journey and it’s a lot to take in. I have some business to attend to, so by the time you hunt down Alistair, we should be ready.”

“Very well”, she said as she took in the sprawl of tents scattered among the ruins. Her heart was pounding with anticipation and no small amount of trepidation. She was free…truly free for the first time in over 12 years. _Or, at least as free as a mage can ever be_ , she silently reminded herself as she wandered through the camp. _If I did leave, even if they didn’t haul me back, I’d be an apostate…always on the run, hiding from the Templars._

She paused before a grouping of tents obviously belonging to the Circle mages who had joined the army. She recalled Greagoir mentioning a few familiar names back at the tower who were supposedly here: Wynn, Uldred, and a few others. One of the Templars guarding the encampment stepped forward, his voice echoing hollowly within his helmet, “Can I help you?

“I…yes, I guess. Have you seen a Grey Warden named Alistair about?”

“Ah…you’re the new recruit. Yes”, the Templar pointed towards the northern part of camp, “He went that way…over near the quartermaster’s tent…to speak to Senior Enchanter Joran a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you”, she smiled at the Templar and made her way in the direction he had pointed.

As she passed by the quartermaster’s tent, she caught the gaze of a lanky, scruffy dark-haired fellow who was lounging against a crumbling column. He eyed her for a moment, then recognition seemed to dawn and he pushed away, jogging to catch up to her.

“Hey! You’re the new Warden recruit, right?”, he asked in a heavy Ferelden accent.

She paused, eyeing him suspiciously before nodding, “Yes…”

Before she could continue, he broke into a wide grin, “Me too! Name’s Daveth! You’re certainly not what I expected, I have to say.”

“And…what were you expecting?”

He coughed before tossing her what was probably meant as a charming smile, “Well, not a woman…but here you are!”

She couldn’t help but chuckle even though his somewhat-lecherous gaze was beginning to make her skin crawl, “Yes…here I am. I need to go find Warden Alistair.”

Before she could extricate herself from his presence, he slipped up beside her, lowering his voice, “You know this ‘Joining ritual’ they mentioned? I overheard that they’re going to send us out into the Wilds.”

She couldn’t help but pause, intrigued, “Oh? Why? Is it part of the ritual?”

“I’m not sure. I hate all this secrecy…it makes my nose itch”, as if to demonstrate, he wriggled his nose comically and Hyperia couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, if that’s the case, I guess we’ll just have to deal with whatever they’re throwing at us out there.”

Daveth grinned, waggling his brows, “Oh, don’t worry…I’ll watch your back”.

She merely rolled her eyes as she began to walk away, “Just don’t get too distracted if you do.”

“I’ll try not to! See you back at Duncan’s tent!”, he called to her retreating back.

A flash of blue-and-silver armor caught Hyperia’s eye and she quickened her pace. The wearer seemed to be chasing down a mage, who paused to sharply address the man.

“What Her Reverence ‘desires’ is of no concern to me! I am busy helping the Grey Wardens…by the King’s orders, I might add…!”

Hyperia recognized the stern visage of Senior Enchanter Joran. He was one of the battle magic instructors back at the tower and had a reputation for being completely merciless to his students. She remembered dreading his classes for it seemed that the man never had a positive thing to say.

The Grey Warden seemed unfazed by his abrasive manner, though, “Should I have asked her to write a note?”, he inquired with a touch of sarcasm. He was surprisingly young…probably no older than Hyperia herself…and seemed to carry himself with a sort of casual ease that seemed almost out of place amongst all those preparing for war.

“Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!” Even from where Hyperia stood, she could see Joran’s weathered, swarthy skin beginning to turn red. Every student in the tower knew that never boded well for whoever the recipient of his anger happened to be.

“Right, because I was harassing you by delivering a message”, sarcasm dripped from the young man’s words and Hyperia’s eyes went wide. _He certainly has some gall!_ She couldn’t help but admire his fortitude in the face of Joran’s wrath. _He’s not bad to look at either_ , she caught herself thinking.

He had short-cropped dark blonde hair that seemed to reflect a glint of red in the setting sunlight, pale brown eyes and tanned skin, with features that somehow reminded her of the King’s. The shape of his eyes, nose and lips all were rather similar…but somehow not…to Cailan’s. _Perhaps some distant relative?_ , she pondered even as the two continued bickering.

She had almost been so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice that Joran had strode by her until the Warden…who she assumed was Alistair…addressed her, “Ah, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together.”

Shaken from her reverie, she blinked in brief confusion, “What?”

Alistair chuckled, offering a helpless shrug, “Oh nothing…just trying to find a bright side in all of this.” Before she could respond, he eyed her for a moment, “Wait…another mage? Did you need…oh, wait…I know who you are. You’re Duncan’s new recruit from the Circle. I should have recognized you right away, I’m sorry.”

“And I’m assuming you’re Alistair? Duncan sent me to find you.”

“Yes, that I am…the newest Grey Warden…well, until you all complete your Joining, anyway. I’ll be accompanying you as you prepare.”

Hyperia canted her head curiously. “’Prepare’? How? I keep hearing of this Joining, but nothing actually about what it is.”

Alistair’s composure seemed to falter a bit at her question, his fingers raking nervously through his hair as he glanced away from her inquisitive gaze, “Um…well, you shouldn’t worry about it. It will only distract you.” Before she could reply, he continued, the easy jocularity returning to his voice, “You know, I just realized that there have never been many women Grey Wardens…I wonder why that is?”

“So, you’re saying you want more women in the Wardens?”, she replied with a crooked smile. _Fine…keep your secrets…for now. I’ll find some way to get it out of you._

“Would that be such a terrible thing?”, he said with a grin…which quickly dissipated at her bemused look, “Not that I’m some sort of drooling lecher…please stop looking at me like that.”

With an awkward cough, he once again changed the subject, “So…I’m curious…have you ever encountered darkspawn before?”

“No, not thusfar”, she said, shaking her head, “Thankfully Duncan and I didn’t encounter any on the road here and…well, no darkspawn in the Circle…thank the Maker!”

He nodded, “When I encountered my first one, I wasn’t prepared for how monstrous it was. And now that there’s a horde of them out there…” He shuddered visibly, “Well, I guess we’ll both have to get used to killing them.”

He took a deep breath and flashed her a smile, “So…I guess we should head back to Duncan. I’m sure he’s eager to get things started.”

Hyperia felt her stomach twist with anxiety, _‘Things’ meaning this mysterious Joining Ritual. Hopefully, it’s no worse than the Harrowing._ Nodding, she gestured for him to lead the way before following in his wake towards the Grey Warden encampment, her mind awhirl.


	6. Into the Wilds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyperia joins Alistair and the other two Warden recruits as they venture into the Wilds as part of their initiation.

“Well, I guess we won’t be getting any blood out of that one!”, Alistair’s voice called out to where Hyperia had just finished losing what little was in her stomach.

She was grateful that Alistair had spotted their first group of darkspawn in advance. It enabled her to stand back at a distance with Daveth and his bow, lobbing magic at them from afar, while Alistair and Ser Jory charged the creatures. However, one managed to slip free and rushed her, an unnatural screech echoing from its fanged maw. Instinctively, she sprayed fire at it from her fingertips and backpedaled in a panic before the thing dropped at her feet, smoldering with the most horrid smell she’d ever encountered. _This is worse than Natale’s accident in the alchemy lab_ , she thought as her stomach gave a sudden lurch.

She managed to stagger away just in time to hear Alistair’s quip and silently berated herself for showing such weakness in front of the others. _I’m going to make a sorry Grey Warden if I puke every time I have to kill one of these things._

As she allowed her forehead to rest for a moment against the cool stone of a ruined column, she felt a hand on her shoulder, Alistair’s voice reassuring her, “Hey, don’t feel bad. You’re definitely not the first…or last person to do that.” He coughed and dropped his voice to a whisper, “Speaking from experience here.”

She flashed him a grateful smile before pushing away from the column, checking her robes to make sure she hadn’t soiled them. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Sorry…I’m fine now.”

During their trek through the Wilds, their party had more than enough opportunities to get used to fighting off the foul creatures, for they seemed to be everywhere once they delved farther into the swampy area. She narrowly escaped being stabbed by one that appeared suddenly behind her, by throwing out a quick mind blast, knocking the squat darkspawn back several feet where Daveth finished it off with an arrow through its eye.

“Told you I’d watch your back!”, he exclaimed teasingly, flipping her a jaunty salute.

She merely scowled in return, “If you hadn’t been so distracted back there, I wouldn’t have had to use the spell.”

Daveth clutched her chest as though wounded, “Ach! You got me there!”

“Look alive, you two. There’s more up ahead”, Alistair admonished them, gesturing to a tall darkspawn wielding a staff.

Hyperia’s eyes widened, “They can use magic too?” Even as her gaze fell upon the creature, it let out a warning cry to several others milling around it before firing off a series of sickly green projectiles.

Gesturing towards the creature, Hyperia managed to flash-freeze it in place even as one of the magic bolts grazed her arm. She hissed at the brief sticky burning sensation it left behind and fired off a series of her own flaming bolts as the men charged.

It was a battle hard-fought, with Jory taking an arrow in the shoulder as he blundered into one of the many traps scattered about, while Daveth was a bit scorched by the darkspawn mage’s spells. Alistair seemed to come out of it relatively unscathed, though his breath came in heavy pants as the last darkspawn fell.

While the rest took a moment to bandage their wounds, and Hyperia gathered her vial of blood from one of the fallen darkspawn, Alistair gestured up the hill towards a ruined structure perched atop it, “That’s where the documents should be. We’re almost there.”

“Thank the Maker”, Hyperia murmured. She had not realized until now how spoiled she had been in the Circle. There, she had three meals a day, a warm bed, and a bath. Now, she felt utterly filthy and exhausted, with everything aching from head to toe. And their ordeal wasn’t even close to being over…there was still the Joining and, if her guess was correct, the battle would be shortly after. _I’ll be easy prey for the darkspawn when I just fall over from exhaustion_ , she mused sullenly.

“Don’t get too excited yet”, Alistair replied with a smirk, “There’s also half a dozen darkspawn up there as well.”

“I don’t see anything”, Daveth said from over her shoulder, causing her to jump at bit at his sudden appearance.

“I can sense them, remember?”

Hyperia nodded, recalling an earlier conversation they’d had just as they’d entered the wilderness. They had come upon a wounded scout and Jory had voiced his misgivings about possibly running into the horde that lurked within the Wilds. Alistair had reassured him that Grey Wardens could sense the darkspawn, so they would be able to avoid the bulk of the forces.

“Neat trick”, Daveth muttered.

“Yeah”, Alistair shrugged, turning to survey their group as Jory pushed to his feet, “If you’re all ready now?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be”, the knight from Redcliffe replied wearily.

Hyperia couldn’t help but wonder why Duncan had chosen the surly man. He was a decent fighter as far as she could tell, but he never stopped complaining…or talking about his family back in Highever. She got the impression that he believed the Grey Wardens to be just some special knighthood to join. Somehow, she was pretty sure it was more than just that with all the secrecy and tests.

She was jarred from her thoughts as an arrow swished past them, followed by a chorus of inhuman grunts. Alistair seemed to concentrate for a brief moment before pointing out shapes moving through the dead trees and scrub lining the path up to the ruins.

“There…and another archer over there, two over behind that rubble.”

Before he even finished, Hyperia shot forth a rapid series of flaming bolts at the archer, while Daveth impaled the other with two quick arrows. Alistair and Jory charged the armored darkspawn who emerged with a roar, swinging an enormous battle axe at the pair.

By now, they had just enough time to get accustomed to one another’s fighting styles, so the skirmish ended with no blood shed among their number, for once. Alistair led the way into the rubble-filled courtyard of the ruin, the three recruits trailing behind.

However, what they found took them all by surprise: not only was the seal broken on the ornate chest half-buried in the rubble, the chest itself was completely smashed in half as through cloven by some immensely-powerful weapon.

Alistair frowned, “The darkspawn couldn’t have done this. And the documents are missing! Damn! Duncan will not be pleased.”

Even as he spoke, Hyperia caught movement out of the corner of her eye within the shadows of the ruin. _Doubtful it’s another darkspawn, else Alistair would have sensed it._ Even as she thought this, a woman’s voice echoed through the courtyard.

“Well, well, what have we here?”

Four pairs of eyes snapped to the speaker who emerged from the shadows to stroll casually down the stairs as though she was attending a ball, not lurking in some darkspawn-ridden wilderness. She was not particularly tall, but had an air about her that made her seem more…imposing. Her straight black hair was tied up in a disarray that framed pale skin and intense golden eyes. She was clad simply, yet provocatively, in burgundy fabric and black leather accented with raven feathers and gold ornamentation, the drape of her neckline plunging deeply to reveal an ample amount of pale skin.

Hyperia’s gaze, however, was drawn to the staff she carried. She had never encountered a real apostate before and, though the Circle spoke of those who lived in the wilderness, hiding away from the Templars and all civilization, she never thought to meet one.

“Are you a pack of vultures, picking about the bones that were long since cleaned?”, the woman queried as the men gaped.

Alistair found his voice first, muttering to the rest, “Careful….she looks Chasind, which means there may be others about.”

The woman merely smirked, “Oh, are you afraid that barbarians will come swooping down upon you?”

Alistair merely eyed her warily, “Yes….swooping…is bad.”

“They’ll put us in the pot they will!” Daveth exclaimed while Jory rolled his eyes, grumbling, “If it’s warmer than this forest, it will be a welcome relief.”

The woman’s gaze then swung to Hyperia who had stood silently studying her, “I assume you do not frighten as easily as these…boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine.”

The woman’s request took her off-guard for a moment as she recalled that names could be a powerful thing to mages…and demons. “You first.”

The woman merely shrugged, “Very well, you may call me Morrigan.”

“Hyperia. I assume you are responsible for this?” She gestured to the shattered chest as Alistair muttered under his breath, “Probably. She’s some sort of…sneaky…witch-thief.”

“Actually, that was my mother. If you want your treaties, I suggest you talk to her.”

The four exchanged a look, a thoughtful scowl on Alistair’s face as he turned to Hyperia, “You’re a mage. What do you think?”

She merely shrugged, “I don’t know. I haven’t dealt with apostate witches before. If she’s telling the truth…and we want to get them back…it seems we have little choice than to talk to this ‘mother’ of hers.”

Morrigan gestured dismissively as she turned her back to them and retreated into the woods, “Follow me…or not…it is up to you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realized that I had this 90% written until today. Decided to go ahead and finish it up and throw it up here so that I can continue to try and keep pace with my DA:I adventures of Hyperia. Going to try to alternate writing on them both as much as I can.
> 
> Enjoy!


	7. Mage of the Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for the Joining, but things don't go smoothly...for anyone.

_Tell your Grey Wardens that this Blight’s threat is greater than they realize._

Alistair continued to mull over the old woman’s words as he waited in the courtyard with the recruits for Duncan’s arrival. He had tried to brush off Morrigan’s mysterious mother, Flemeth, as just a crazy old woman, but there was something about her that disturbed him. Perhaps it was the rumors about “The Witch of the Wilds”…perhaps it was the way she seemed to stare straight through him and into his soul, as though seeing something there that even he was unaware of.

When they had arrived back at the camp and he attempted to discuss it with Duncan, the elder Warden had merely brushed it off with “I know you were a Templar, Alistair, but they are not our concern right now”.

He had not missed the apprehensive look that the mage, Hyperia, had tossed him at the mention of “Templar”. _Great, I never did mention that, did I? I’ll have to explain it to her once I get the chance…if I get the chance._

He felt his stomach lurch at the impending Joining. He’d only been present for one…his own…but it had not been pleasant. He did not envy what the three before him would be going through.

Even now, he could hear the nervousness in their voices as they quarreled amongst themselves as though he was not there.

“The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it”, Ser Jory grumbled, pacing restlessly across the courtyard.

Daveth merely rolled his eyes, “Are you blubbering again?”

Ignoring him, Jory continued, gesticulating animatedly, “Why all these damn tests?! Have I not earned my place?!”

“Maybe it’s tradition”, the cutpurse from Denerim replied, his voice taunting, “Maybe…they’re just trying to annoy you!”

All the while, the red-haired mage girl had remained silent, apparently caught up in her own thoughts, until now. “Maker, I’m a woman and I feel like I’m the bravest one here!”

Even through the bold façade, Alistair could hear the nervous tremor in her voice. The same tremor was even more apparent as Jory replied.

“All I know is that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they’d warned me…” He sighed, shaking his head, “It just doesn’t seem fair.”

“Would you have come if they’d warned you? Maybe that’s why they don’t”, Daveth interjected, “The Wardens do what they must, after all.”

“Including sacrificing us?!” Jory railed, a note of hysteria in his voice, his eyes wide.

Alistair was surprised to hear Daveth reply, “I’d sacrifice even more if I knew it would end the Blight”.

_Well, that’s a surprise. I figured him to be just some shallow cutpurse in this just to save his own neck. Guess there’s more to him than I thought._

Hyperia merely sighed in obvious exasperation, “Andraste’s tits, would you two just put a sock in it already? You’re worse than children!”

Alistair almost couldn’t restrain a chuckle at the reaction of the two others. Jory looked at her with his mouth agape like a fish, while Daveth just grinned and tossed her a look that…well, Alistair wasn’t entirely sure he approved of, before the cutpurse turned back to Jory with a smirk.

“Yeah, Ser Knight…try not to wet your trousers before the ritual starts.”

Any further retort the knight might have given was interrupted by the sound of metal-shod boots climbing the stairs to the courtyard, followed by the calm, rumbling voice of Duncan.

“At last, we come to the Joining.” All eyes turned to the Warden Commander and a hush fell over the group. Alistair could almost feel the nervous anticipation in the air. _Or perhaps I’m just remembering my own Joining_ , he thought. _How scared…but yet excited we all were._

“The Grey Wardens were founded during the First Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation”, Duncan continued as he placed a silver chalice engraved with the twin griffons of the Order upon the stone table. “So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered the taint.”

Ser Jory’s voice broke the silence that had followed, voicing what they were all no doubt thinking, “We—we’re going to drink the blood of those…those creatures?!”

\------------------

Hyperia clutched her hands to try and quell their shaking. It had taken every ounce of willpower not to pace the courtyard restlessly as they waited for Duncan to arrive. The waiting was making her irritable and she had already snapped at the bickering recruits twice out of sheer nerves.

She tried to tell herself that this was no different from the Harrowing…but, her mind wasn’t listening. At least with the Harrowing, she did not know exactly when it would happen. So when the Templar had awoken her in the middle of the night, she’d had no time to be nervous. Until she had stepped into the Harrowing chamber itself, she had been in a sort of half-asleep daze.

That is, until she had seen Cullen standing there, looking even more nervous than she. His presence had given her strength…the will to survive the ordeal, no matter what happened. But he wasn’t here now. She instinctively reached for the small coin necklace and drew it forth from beneath her robes. There was no reason to hide it now. As Duncan approached and began to speak, she absently rubbed her thumb over the raised portrait of Andraste embossed upon it, finding comfort in it.

_“My brother gave this to me…for luck.”_

She closed her eyes, feeling the blood wash from her face as Duncan explained the Joining, thinking silently, _I could use some of that luck right now._

Then Alistair chimed in, the younger Warden answering some of their spoken and unspoken questions during their trek through the Wilds, “Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can use it to sense the darkspawn and use it to slay the Archdemon.”

Jory once more spoke up, his voice trembling, “You’re saying that…this could kill us?!”

Duncan fixed him with an intent stare, “As could any darkspawn you encounter….but yes. Those who do survive are forever changed. This is the price we pay. That is why the Joining is a secret.” He then turned to Alistair, “There are a few words that we speak before we begin….ones that have been said from the first. If you will, Alistair?”

The younger Warden bowed his head, almost as though in prayer and solemnly recited, “Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice shall not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you.”

Hyperia noted Jory shifting nervously out of the corner or her eye, his gaze darting among them like a trapped animal, desperately searching for a way to escape. She’d seen that look before back at the Circle…on apprentices who feared they were not strong enough to survive the Harrowing. The look that was usually eventually replaced by the blank look below a brand of Tranquility.

 _I doubt the Wardens have an alternative like the Circle. It’s not like being a mage, where you’re born with this. They only pick the ones they think will be strong enough. Though why they picked him, I cannot imagine_ , she thought with a slight twinge of sympathy towards the simple knight.

“Daveth, step forward”, Duncan said, extending the cup to the cutpurse.

Hyperia chewed her lip nervously as the man eyed the chalice for a moment before taking a small draught of the foul liquid. She had grown rather fond of the waggish fellow, even as lecherous as he could be at times.

But even as she sent a silent prayer to the Maker, he began choking, his hands grasping at his throat as he staggered to his knees. She couldn’t restrain a soft gasp as he turned his face skyward…his eyes completely pale as threads of sickly obsidian snaked beneath his skin. His body convulsed upon the stone once…twice…then was still.

Duncan released a rueful sigh and whispered, “I am sorry”, before turning to Jory, the chalice extended once more. “Jory, step forward.”

The ring of steel echoed across the courtyard as the knight drew his blade and slowly backed away, “But…I have a wife…a child! Had I known…!”

Duncan’s features were implacable as he continued to approach him, his tone even…quiet, “There is no turning back.”

Jory raised his sword defensively, eyes wide, “No! You ask too much! There is no glory in this!”

A hint of sadness flickered for the briefest moment across the Warden Commander’s face as he passed the chalice to Alistair and drew his own blade: a slender, curved dagger.

Jory lashed out like a cornered beast but once, the blow easily parried by Duncan who, in the blink of an eye, plunged the dagger into Jory’s chest. As the knight sagged against him, a look of shock written upon his face, Hyperia could see Duncan’s eyes close as he whispered, “I am sorry.”

With a ragged exhale, the knight collapsed upon the ground and then was still. Hyperia found herself transfixed at the pool of blood rapidly forming beneath him. But she was stirred from her daze as Ducan spoke up softly once more.

“Hyperia, step forward.”

A thousand thoughts raced through her mind as her gaze snapped up to meet his. She wouldn’t run…she couldn’t…but every fiber of her being screamed against this. Once more her fingers found the coin hanging about her neck. She clutched it tightly for but a moment before accepting the chalice.

The liquid within was dark…thick…yet an almost-pleasant herbal smell wafted from it. _This can’t be…just blood? There’s too much of it…and I know it smelled far more putrid. Is it some sort of poison? Or symbolic of the blood? Then why would it kill Daveth? Oh Maker…preserve me…_

With that thought, she took a long sip, the liquid burning its way down her throat. She felt the eyes of the two Wardens watching her expectantly and began to think, _That wasn’t so ba—_

But then, the world went dark. Flashes of images tore through her mind. A creature…a dragon…screaming in her brain in words she could not understand. A cave…underground…scores upon scores of darkspawn as far as the eye could see….a cacophony of screeching chatter that rose in intensity to a crescendo that blotted out all thought and reason.

She felt herself falling, but wasn’t sure if it was in her vision or in reality until she slowly blinked to see the faces of Duncan and Alistair hovering above her, relief evident in both their visages. _I’m…alive…_

Duncan’s voice broke through the fog still lingering in her mind, his words almost ritualistic, “You have been called on to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good. From this moment on, you are a Grey Warden. Welcome.”

As Duncan reached down to aid her to her feet, Alistair sighed softly, “Two more deaths. In my Joining only one of us died, but it was….horrible. I’m glad at least one of you made it through.”

Duncan merely nodded as she gathered her wits about her, “How do you feel?”

“I—“, she tried to find words, but nothing seemed to suffice. “I’m fine…I think.”

The Senior Warden nodded, “Take some time. I must go to a meeting with the King. Alistair can help you get your bearings and fill you in with what you need to know before the battle. I will meet you both at my tent once the meeting is over.”

As she watched him depart, Alistair spoke up quietly behind her, “Umm…you dropped this.”

Turning, her eyes were drawn to his outstretched hand and the slip of paper held between his fingers. She felt a fist clench around her chest at the familiar neatly-penned script, her lips twitching whether with a smile or fighting tears, she wasn’t sure.

She managed a quiet, “Thank you”, as her gaze skimmed briefly over the verse written upon the scrap of parchment.

 _Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,_  
_I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm._  
_I shall endure._  
_What you have created, no one can tear asunder._

 “I’ve never known too many mages who were religious”, the younger Warden commented as they started off towards the cluster of Warden tents.

Avoiding Alistair’s curious gaze, she quickly tucked the paper back into the small book she kept in her pocket, her cheeks flushed. “I’m not. It was given to me…by someone.”

The younger Warden must have heard the fondness in her tone, for he grinned and leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “Someone special?”

“I—well, um…I think so…yes, maybe”, she stammered, her face flushing bright red.

As they reached Duncan’s tent, Alistair gathered up a bundle of azure-and-silver and passed it to her, his expression turning solemn, though a tinge of humor remained in his voice, “Your new uniform, m’lady. I’m sorry we took you away from all that. But maybe…” He trailed off with a shrug, “Go ahead and get changed. Duncan should be back soon.”

She stood just staring at him for a moment, her emotions in a whirl, before ducking into the tent to hide the confusion she was feeling over this new life she had entered into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit disappointed in this chapter. I'd really thought I'd do more with it, but once it came down to writing, it's like all the interesting ideas I had just went "poof!". Decided to switch gears a bit and change to Alistair's POV for the first part, which I honestly think I could have done better on. I feel like there should be so much more tension/emotion for the Joining, but I just couldn't get it conveyed. But I also felt it needed to be written so I can move forward with this.  
> Ending is abrupt...but I just couldn't find a good place to end (it would have been crazy-long if I'd gone all the way to the Tower of Ishal like I'd planned), so just chose there.  
> So yeah...not my best, but hope it wasn't too bad.


	8. To Be a Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle against the Blight begins. Alistair and Hyperia are sent on a very important mission which goes very wrong very, very quickly.

As she finished donning her new armor, Hyperia heard Duncan’s voice rumbling outside the tent. She took one last moment to admire the fit of the Grey Warden uniform. It felt odd to wear something else besides the cumbersome robes of the Circle, but the increased freedom of movement that the soft leather pants and boots, along with the lightly-armored tunic, gave her was a welcome change. She couldn’t help but give a little twirling dance just out of sheer delight.

 _I wish you could see me now_ , she thought as she rubbed her thumb over the silver coin Cullen had given her.  _I wish you were here now. Hopefully one day..._

Her excitement was short-lived however, for when she gathered her staff and exited the tent, Duncan and Alistair were both awaiting her with serious expressions. Her stomach dropped as the full force of reality dawned upon her: that tonight, she would be fighting with the Wardens for all of their lives against a horde of darkspawn.

“Ah now that you are here, we can begin”, Duncan stated, “The plan is this: you and Alistair are to go to the Tower of Ishal and make sure that Loghain’s soldiers light the beacon that will allow his army to charge from flank when the time is right.”

“What?!” Alistair exclaimed, “I won’t be in the battle?!”

Duncan cut him a stern glance, “This is by the King’s personal request, Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teryn Loghain’s forces won’t know when to charge.”

The younger Warden merely rolled his eyes, “So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there, holding the torch…just in case, right?” His disappointment shone through the sarcasm dripping from his words.

Hyperia, however, sighed a silent breath of thanks. She was not sure that she was ready to face an entire horde of darkspawn.

“We must do whatever it takes to defeat the darkspawn”, Duncan admonished him, “Exciting or no.”

Alistair sighed wearily, “I get it, I get it. But just so you know, if the king asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I’m drawing the line…darkspawn or no.”

Hyperia tried to fight back a laugh…unsuccessfully, “Now that, I’d like to see.”

“Hmmm”, Alistair turned to her, eyeing her for a moment, his lips curling into an impish smile, “For you…maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress.”

She felt a flush color her cheeks even as Duncan released a grunt of obvious annoyance before bringing them back to the subject at hand. “The Tower is on the other side of the gorge from the king’s camp, the way we came when we arrived. You’ll need to cross the gorge, enter the gate, and head to the top of the tower. From the top, you will be able to see the entire valley.”

“How will we know when to light it?” She asked.

“We will signal you”, Duncan cast a glance to Alistair, “He will know what to look for.”

There was a question burning in her mind that she was afraid to ask, but knew she must, “What if the archdemon shows up?”

“We soil ourselves, that’s what”, Alistair quipped sardonically.

Duncan just flashed him another annoyed look, “Leave that to us. Don’t take any chances. Now, the battle is about to begin. Once I leave, you will have less than an hour to light the signal. Once it is done, stay with the teyrn’s men and guard the tower. If we need you, we will let you know. Are you ready?”

She nodded and Alistair replied, “We’re ready.”

“Good”, Duncan’s features lost a measure of their hardness for but a moment, “After this moment, you two are on your own. Remember that you are Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that name.”

As the senior Warden turned to leave, Alistair called out, “Duncan…may the Maker watch over you.”

Duncan paused, inclining his head slightly, “May He watch over us all.” With that, he turned and strode away from the camp to join the King.

“So….are you ready?” Alistair asked as he turned to Hyperia.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves somewhat, she nodded, “As much as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Here”, he tossed her a small, paper-wrapped pack. “Travel rations. Not the tastiest thing you’ll eat, but it will give you something to munch on since I know you haven’t eaten since…when?”

“Seems like forever”, she admitted, taking the packet gratefully to nibble on the cracker-like contents within.

“Hopefully, this will be over soon”, he said as he began leading the way towards the bridge. “This has to seem pretty crazy for you, I’d guess. Most Wardens get a little bit of time to get settled in, but with you, it’s just ‘Come with us, drink this blood, welcome to the Wardens, now it’s time to fight the Blight’…all in the span of a couple of days!”

“My head’s still reeling”, she said, “Though in a way, maybe it’s a little easier. No time to really think or get nervous.”

“Oh, I’m sure there will be time for that soon enough”, he said as they approached the bridge spanning the massive gorge separating the two sections of the ruins.

Beyond the rumble of an approaching storm, it seemed as though everything had gone dead silent…as though all of Thedas was holding its breath. Far below, they could see the armies of Ferelden arrayed in a magnitude that had probably not been seen in some time. At its fore, the gleaming golden armor of the king could be seen, surrounded by the silver-and-azure of the Wardens.

In the distance, an evil red-orange glow flickered among the trees and the echo of a thousand guttural growls could be heard. “Maker’s breath, how many of them are there?” Hyperia gasped in awe.

“Thousands? Tens of thousands? No one knows”, Alistair replied in hushed tones. “They’ve been building their numbers since the last Blight and that was hundreds of years ago.”

Almost as though prompted by their words, a horrible screeching cry sounded out across the battlefield and the bobbing lights charged forward to resolve itself into a teeming mass of inhuman bodies. Almost as though the darkspawn had brought it with them, the storm began in earnest, lighting cutting through the sky as rain began falling in sheets.

“Archers!” The cry rang out from their army below and a moment later, the sky was filled with the whistle and glow of a thousand flaming arrows. Darkspawn fell by the score, but for every one that was taken down, hundreds more took its place.

“Hounds!” The next call was accompanied by the eager barking of mabari, who charged the line of darkspawn moments before Cailan’s voice rang out over the din.

“For Ferelden!”

The ground shook…even they could feel it high atop the bridge as the armies clashed. The sound of running feet drew near as archers began arraying themselves along the bridge, firing down on the darkspawn below.

“Come on, we have to go!” Alistair yelled even as flaming boulders began soaring overhead, one smashing directly into one of the smaller towers behind them.

The next moments seemed to stretch on for an eternity, with nothing but chaos around them as they sprinted across the bridge, surrounded by the sound of arrows whistling through the air, along with the crack and rumble of both shattered stonework and the raging storm. More than once, Hyperia was forced to pause and toss up a shield to protect her, Alistair and the soldiers around them from the falling debris.

Finally, they made it across, but just in time to be met by a pair of soldiers wearing the livery of Loghain’s army, both looking worried and ragged.

“Thank the Maker, you’re Grey Wardens, aren’t you?” One of them asked frantically.

Before either could respond, the second soldier spoke up, “The Tower…it’s been overrun!”

“How?” Alistair asked, tossing Hyperia a quick, worried glance.

“The darkspawn”, the first soldier replied, “they came up through the lower chambers somehow! Most of our men are dead!”

Heaving a weary sigh, Alistair replied, “Then it’s up to us to light the beacon ourselves, I guess. Come with us.”

Time seemed to stretch into eternity. Hyperia did not know if it was minutes or hours that they fought through the mobs of darkspawn assaulting the tower. She could feel her hands trembling as she fired off spell after spell at the twisted creatures. Eventually, they were able to carve a path to the tower’s entrance.

As they ducked inside to catch their breath, Alistair exclaimed, “Look there”, as he gestured towards the vast entry hall before them. A throng of darkspawn milled within, while barricades had been set up around the perimeter, forcing any attackers to wind their way around piles of debris.

One of the soldiers muttered, “Great…and it’s trapped”, gesturing to a thin rope stretched between two barrels. “I’ll see if I can…”

As soon as he began to approach the trip line, Hyperia noticed a familiar glow forming around the hands of one of the darkspawn, “Look out!” She yelled, throwing herself towards the soldier as she hastily cast a shimmering shield just as a flaming sphere hurtled towards them.

The force of the explosion knocked them all back, but the flames washed around the barrier and Hyperia couldn’t help but recall the words of one of her instructors back at the Circle.

_“Fear is your greatest enemy. It is a weakness that can be exploited. You must stand firm and know that you can resist whatever is thrown at you.”_

Gripping her staff as she climbed back to her feet, she tried to force back the panic that clawed at her chest. _We’re alive…still alive…we can do this._ The mantra repeated itself over and again in her mind even as the soldier, having quickly recovered, disarmed the trap.

The darkspawn were surprisingly clever: the winding barricades prevented a straight path into the heart of their number and they had archers and the mage still flinging arrows and bolts of that sickly-green magic at them.

“Focus on the mage!” Alistair yelled as they were finally able to engage the creatures. Hyperia sent her own bolt of lightning sizzling towards the squat darkspawn, who proved surprisingly nimble…attempting to keep out of the reach of the others’ blades while flinging his spells at them.

Eventually the darkspawn fell, but no one emerged unscathed. A line of crimson stained Hyperia’s armor along one arm where an arrow had grazed her, and one of the soldiers was nursing a rather wicked-looking lump on his skull where one particularly large darkspawn had smacked him with his rather large axe. Alistair’s shield seemed to have taken most of the blows, the painted griffons upon it now scratched and pitted from the touch of the acidic magic. The last of the soldiers winced as he yanked an arrow from where it had lodged in his thigh.

“We have to keep moving”, Alistair said once everyone had bound their wounds and downed a healing potion. “The king is counting on us.”

And so they continued, through yet more darkspawn who seemed to infest every room, every hallway, of the tower. The floor of one room was nearly dominated by a huge hole, its bottom lost in the darkness.

“This must be where they came from”, Alistair mused, while Hyperia felt a shudder race down her spine. She could almost feel something down there…like a sickness spreading, devouring everything…hungering to be free.

“Uhm…let’s get out of here”, one of the soldiers muttered uneasily, “I don’t really want to know what else could come out of that.”

“Right”, Alistair replied, leading them through the desecrated remains of the tower.

The next several minutes…hours?...Hyperia didn’t even know anymore…was an endless litany of battling darkspawn and climbing ever-closer to their goal. Every set of stairs reached seemed like a victory. Even so, Alistair grumbled as they neared the top.

“Maker’s breath, what are all of these darkspawn doing here ahead of the horde? There wasn’t supposed to be any resistance here!”

Pausing to catch her breath just outside the wooden door to the tower’s apex, Hyperia couldn’t help but flash him a crooked smile, “I thought you were complaining that you wouldn’t get to fight.”

He shot her a sidelong glance, then smirked, releasing a brief ironic laugh, “Heh…yeah, I guess you’re right. But still, we need to hurry. I’m sure we’ve already missed the signal by now with all this….” His voice trailed off, his eyes widening. “Oh Maker…whatever’s in there…it’s big.”

Hyperia could feel it too…nothing specific, but just this concentrated feeling of…wrongness. “It couldn’t be the…archdemon, could it?” She tried to keep the tremor from her voice.

“I don’t think a dragon could fit in there and…I get the feeling if it was, we’d already know it by now. Still…be ready”, he replied as he cautiously opened the door.

The apex of the tower was an enormous circular room, littered with flaming debris and corpses…some of which looked half-eaten. At first, it seemed empty, but then a horrid slurping-chewing noise echoed through the space and there was movement near one of the flaming mounds.

“Andraste preserve us”, one of the soldiers whispered as the form rose from the shadows to reveal a towering darkspawn that rose over twice their height. Its body was of scar-crossed muscle, a bestial face lined with jagged teeth and topped with curling horns. It wore little beyond a leather loincloth and bracers studded with spikes as long as swords.

Upon spotting them, it let out an inhuman roar, blood-flecked spittle spraying wide, as it tossed aside its mangled meal and turned to face them.

Trying to gather her wits in the face of such an abomination, Hyperia quickly fired off a bolt of lightning towards the ogre, then was forced to throw herself to the ground as it retaliated by hurling a massive handful of debris at her.

Alistair and the other two soldiers rushed it, trying to keep it occupied as she regained her footing. She wasn’t sure how she managed to keep a hold on her staff with trembling and sweat-soaked hands, but adrenaline took over and she fired spell after spell at the beast, trying to keep it off-balance while the men danced around it, hacking and slashing at whatever limbs they could reach.

Once, it managed to scoop up one of the soldiers, slowly crushing him in one enormous clawed hand. The soldier’s screams echoed through the tower as she ran forward just to get close enough to cast a concentrated bolt of force at the ogre’s wrist.

It howled as it dropped the man in a crumpled, broken heap, and lashed out with its free hand to catch her and the other soldier in a sweeping blow, sending them tumbling across the stone floor.

Through blurred vision and ringing ears, she managed to see Alistair take advantage of the creature’s unbalanced stumble and opened a gash in its chest, forcing a pain-filled howl from its maw. She thought she had to be hallucinating from the blow, but it seemed that he actually jumped…or climbed…up the beast, toppling it to the ground before spearing his sword straight through the ogre’s horned head.

Trying to blink away the stars that speckled her vision, she offered a weary smile as he knelt beside her. “Are you okay?” Concern filled his hazel-brown eyes as he helped her to slowly rise, a faint wave of dizziness hitting her.

“I’ll be fine. Just…smacked me good.” Glancing down, she noticed the second soldier unmoving beside her, his body pierced with gaping holes that oozed blood…too much blood. Hyperia cringed, realizing that he had taken the full brunt of the blow from the vicious spikes upon the ogre’s wrist…and that she had barely escaped such a fate herself by mere inches.

As she regained her bearing, Alistair rushed to the fire pit built into the side of the wall and thrust a torch into it. A second later, a loud ‘whoosh!’ echoed through the chamber as the fire spread to the fuel coating a stone conduit leading to the peak of the tower.

“There, hopefully we weren’t too late…” he said, then turned towards the door, dread heavy in his voice, “Oh no…”

She followed his gaze just in time to see a flood of darkspawn emerge through the entrance. Before she could ready a spell, the air was filled with the sound of whistling arrows. There was a sharp pain…and another…and another…bearing her to the ground as darkness filled her vision and the room spiraled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly gameplay with a few changes here and there. Was writing this as I was playing it with my new rogue character, Ravenna. Hope that I didn't manage to mix anything up. I had to catch myself from actually writing about Ravenna instead of Hyperia.  
> Taking a wee bit of a break from Emerald Sky now that there's a bit of a lull in the action and I'm pondering over slipping some fun filler head-canon in. So, in observance of Dragon4geDay yesterday, I decided to start a new DAO game and give Hyperia's DAO story a bit of love. It also helps give me ideas to use in Emerald Sky as well.
> 
> Anyway...rambling today...enjoy!


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